| The Winter Olympics are on, and honestly? I needed them. Two weeks of the world gathering not to argue but to witness— to watch humans do breathtaking things and cheer for them anyway. It’s been a good reminder that togetherness is still possible. Rooting for each other is what we are supposed to do. And yet — the world has still been a lot lately. You feel it too, I know you do. The heaviness has been compounding, getting louder, stacking on top of itself until some days it’s hard to remember what quiet even feels like. So this past weekend, I left. My boyfriend and I packed up and drove to Kentucky for Valentine’s Day Weekend— no grand plan, just a road trip and a yes to getting away. We stayed at a horse farm. We visited Woodford Reserve, where we sipped and savored bourbon the way it’s meant to be enjoyed — slowly, intentionally, noticing the notes, letting it linger. Making faces when it hit the tongue a little strong. We wandered downtown, found coffee, ate unhurriedly in a little restaurant while the world went on without us. And then there was the farm. Two puppies posted up at the window like tiny, fluffy bouncers, waiting patiently for their treats. Out in the pasture, horses with the most wonderfully ordinary names — Dexter, Fred, Jake — grazed like they had absolutely nowhere to be and no opinion whatsoever about the news cycle. I sat there and thought: this is it. This is the thing we keep saying we’ll do someday. And here I was, actually doing it. It changed something in me. Not dramatically. Not in a lightning-bolt way. Just quietly, the way good things usually do. ✦The Four Movements✦ When I came home, I kept turning the weekend over in my mind, trying to name what had actually happened. And what I kept coming back to was this — four simple things that the trip made room for, simple things that we are very familiar with at Brisalo: Pause. The moment I stopped moving, I could finally feel how tired I was. Not bad tired (well maybe) — just real. The kind of tired that tells you the truth about yourself. You can’t hear that when you’re running. You have to get still enough to let it catch up to you. See. Morning light on an open field. Puppies who haven’t learned to be anxious about anything. Horses named after the kind of men you’d want to have a beer with. I saw all of it because I wasn’t scrolling past it. I was actually there — and being actually there turns out to be a gift every single time. Breathe. Somewhere between the bourbon tasting and the second cup of coffee, I noticed my shoulders had come down from around my ears. My jaw had unclenched. (Even with a massage this week, there was still so much tension). I was breathing the way humans are actually supposed to breathe — long, slow, all the way in. I had forgotten what that felt like. Grow. I came home different than I left. Very aware and accepting of where I was. And more myself. That’s what a pause does. It doesn’t solve your life. It gives you back enough of yourself to live it better. ✦What Ecclesiastes Has Been Saying to Me✦ I’ve been spending time in Ecclesiastes lately, and one thing keeps stopping me in my tracks: enjoy your life. It is meant to be enjoyed. Not when you’ve earned it. Not when things settle down. Not after this next hard season finally passes. Now. The coffee. The drive. The horse named Fred. That’s not a small thing. That’s actually radical for a lot of us who were taught — in ways spoken and unspoken — that rest has to be deserved and joy has to be justified. Ecclesiastes pushes back on all of that. It says: look at the life right in front of you and receive it. I’m still learning how to do that. The trip to Kentucky with a man who encourages me to enjoy my life was good practice. ✦Your Gentle Challenge-Walk Through The Door✦ Here’s what I want to invite you into over the next two weeks: Take one 60-minute, technology-free break — just for you. No phone. No podcast. No to-do list running quietly in the background. Maybe it’s a drive with the windows down. Maybe it’s a walk with no destination. Maybe it’s sitting somewhere with a good cup of coffee and just letting yourself be there. The invitation is simple: one hour to pause, see, breathe, and grow — and then notice what shifts. You don’t have to go to Kentucky. You don’t have to find horses with funny names. You just have to stop long enough to let yourself arrive. I genuinely want to know what happens for you. Hit reply and tell me. _______________________________ You don’t have to fix the world this week. You just have to show up for your one life — the coffee, the drive, the small and ordinary moments that turn out to be everything. The athletes in Milan trained for years just to be fully present for one moment. You don’t need a mountain or a medal — just sixty minutes, no technology, and the audacity to enjoy your life. With Big Hugs and So Much Love, Stacy Join Me This Month -> Stacy Bergman Founder and Head Coach, Brisalo Always Rooting For You! stacy@brisalo.com Learn more about Brisalo Brisalo Coaching & Wedding Services Brisalo exists to help women stop performing for others and start trusting themselves. You’re receiving this because you signed up for The Gentle Pause. To unsubscribe please respond to this message and you will be removed, no questions asked. Local Services: Columbus, Ohio + Global Services hello@brisalo.com www.brisalo.com February 15, 2026 | Brisalo | The Gentle Pause — Issue 04.2026 |
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